


In Dreams

by itzteegan



Series: Displaced Soulmates [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bonding, F/M, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Non-wolf Pack, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Platonic Soulmates, Polyamory, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Tags May Change, i'm trying something different
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: For Faye, the day started pretty bad, and it ended even worse as she fell out of a rift just outside Haven. Navigating a new world with naught but a purse and the clothes on her back would have been difficult enough, but when she bonds to a pack that has coalesced in the upper echelons of the Inquisition, it places her dead centre of the action ... precisely where she didn't want to be.
Relationships: Alistair/Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Alistair/Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Alistair/Original Female Character(s), Alistair/Zevran Arainai, Alistair/Zevran Arainai/Original Character(s), Amund (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age), Anders/Fenris/Female Hawke, Anders/Fenris/Hawke, Anders/Fenris/Hawke/Original Character(s), Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Blackwall/Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Blackwall/Original Character(s), Blackwall/Original Female Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Character(s), Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull/Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull/Original Character(s), Iron Bull/Original Female Character(s), Josephine Montilyet/Sera, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Original Character(s), Male Lavellan/Original Female Character(s), Rylen (Dragon Age)/Original Character(s), Rylen (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Sky Watcher/Original Female Character(s), Varric Tethras/Original Character(s), Varric Tethras/Original Female Character(s), Zevran Arainai/Original Character(s), Zevran Arainai/Original Female Character(s), Zevran Arainai/The Iron Bull/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Displaced Soulmates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1349341
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've literally been writing on and working with some concepts for about a year now (yes, really!) and I have over 40k written for this story (which, while it sounds significant, it's still nowhere near finished). Nevertheless, I've worked it to a place where I'm comfortable to go ahead and start posting it, so here we go. Yes, another adventure.

Well, this was shit.

Although, really, the day was firmly in that territory already. I’d woken up to discover my internet was out, so that meant no work for the day … which, some people might celebrate, but I did not, and so that meant I spent an hour and a half on the phone with the cable company troubleshooting – mostly redoing everything I’d already done – before they offered a service call. Unfortunately, there wasn’t going to be a tech in the area that could squeeze me in that day, so considering the day was definitely a wash as far as work was concerned, I figured maybe I could at least run a few errands I’d been neglecting lately.

Going outside only made things worse. While it started off as a nice, sunny day, by the time I arrived at the grocery store, it was pouring buckets. Swearing, I sat in my car a moment, contemplating if I really wanted to run all the way in and out of the store, when I remembered my umbrella. Ah ha! My saviour! But, as my luck that day would have it, I was mere feet away from the entrance when a nasty gust upended the spines and broke the poor thing. Swearing profusely, I shoved it into the nearest large trash bin I could and stomped into the store. That thing had made it through fucking hurricanes before, there was no reason it should have broken then and there, except that life was just trying to be a dick to me. I took my time in the store, leisurely going up and down every single aisle, even aisles I had no business being in – baby diapers? ha! as if – hoping that by the time I finished my shopping and paid for my items, the rain would have at least slowed down some.

Nope. While I had heard it cease here and there while in the store, by the time I paid at the till and was walking out, it was just as strong as when I’d arrived. Fucking perfect. Aiming my cart, I ran as fast as I could to my car, having to stop a couple of times and profusely wipe off my eyes just so I could open them to see where I was going. _At least I didn’t do my makeup?_ was about the only positive I could pull out of the situation as I quickly unloaded everything in my car’s trunk in record time.

Considering how the grocery shopping went, I almost just decided to go home then and there. Almost. My stubborn streak was showing as I told myself to stop being a baby and just finish. And so I drove over to the post office, hoping against hope there would be a close parking spot, and wouldn’t ya know it, the only row not occupied was the row furtherest from the entrance. But, I was there, and I really didn’t need to put it off any longer, so I grabbed the couple of packages I needed to send and tucked them under the button up shirt I was using as a top layer over my dress, hoping that would be enough to keep them relatively dry as I sprinted inside. I made it fine, thankfully, but the line was almost out the door, and my shoulders sagged as I realised the wait time I was in for. But there was nothing for it, and I waited it out, eventually making it to the front and paying for the postage so they could be sent off. Accomplishments! Things were getting done! Sure I was suffering a little in the process, but really it was no big deal in the long run, or so I told myself to try to feel better.

I did have one item of clothing to pick up from the dry cleaner’s as well. I know, I know, I had told myself time and time again to never own anything that had to be dry cleaned, but the flesh is weak sometimes, so gimme a break. I did get lucky as I was able to park on the street just a store down from the place, so I didn’t have a whole parking lot to navigate this time, and the rain was starting to let up a little bit. Maybe it’s starting to turn around some, I thought as I paid for my clothing and walked it back to the car. I didn’t even get a chance to actually revel in this as, when I got back to my car, I realised that I’d had a massive brain fart and fed coins into the wrong parking meter like a dipshit. And, because of course, my actual parking meter was expired, so I had a nice parking ticket waiting for me. I honestly couldn’t have been in the shop much longer than five minutes in total, so I must have parked and gone in at just the right time as parking enforcement was going around. Cursing under my breath, I tucked it in my wallet so I wouldn’t forget about it – because that was really the last thing I needed to have happen – and made my way home, far too deflated to do anything else that day.

And, just because I needed another reason to get kicked in the ass, the rain had started up again pretty heavy by the time I had made it back to my apartment building. Just to further cement the giant dick that life was waving in my direction, my dumbass college kid neighbour parked in my clearly marked, assigned parking spot. Again. If this had been the first time it happened, even with the clear markings, I would have been frustrated of course, but would have figured that maybe it was raining really hard when he pulled in and he simply didn’t notice. But no, he had done this off and on from the time he’d moved in, because he said my space was closer and he was tired from working and studying and so if it was open, he took it. I’d already spoken with the landlord about it, and I angrily parked in the visitor’s parking area – my only recourse, because if I parked in his spot, I’d also get in trouble – and got out my cell phone to call the office in a livid rage, only to find that my cell phone only had a few percentages of battery life left because I had forgotten to plug it up the night before, and being on the phone for so long that morning had only helped to further drain it. Sticking it back in my purse, I wrote it off for the time being, just wanting to get inside my apartment and wait out the run of bad luck I was having.

But of course I couldn’t do that without one more middle finger, and as I tried to make a run for the building, I tripped and fell, my bags spilling out onto the wet concrete. I thanked whatever maker might there be that I hadn’t gotten eggs or anything in a glass or otherwise breakable container, about to just completely disregard this, gather everything up, and head inside, until I realised that my dry cleaning had fallen in a puddle. Which meant that it was no longer clean, and I would have to take it back and have it redone, thereby negating the trip I’d taken there and also meaning that I’d essentially gotten a parking ticket for no reason.

That was it, I was done. Picking up the items that had spilled – including the flimsy plastic garment bag that contained my clothing – I dejectedly walked into the building, not even caring about how wet I was getting. With how much I’d been running in and out of the rain, I was already soaked to the bone as it was, so what was a little more water, honestly? I piled my bags on the counter and just as I turned to take my purse back to my room and mope before I tried to figure out how to try to make up some work, life decided it just wasn’t quite done fucking with me yet.

What exactly happened, I couldn’t say. Many would try to explain it later, try to figure out what caused it and why, but there were never any hard and fast answers, only conjecture and hypotheses. What I did know is that for a moment, it felt like everything froze, and I couldn’t move. I was blinded, like a camera flash had gone off, but much more powerful. Was I squinting? Had I closed my eyes? It was bright, but I couldn’t tell if it was actually permeating through my eyelids or not. I vaguely felt like I might possibly be moving, but not by myself, like my body was being moved. Well, perhaps moved was the wrong word. Shifted was a little more apt description, like I wasn’t travelling through a space so much as some unknown, unseen force was pushing me into a slightly different position. As I felt this force start to ease, start to lessen, the light surrounding me started to turn green before it dissipated entirely, and I found myself standing on a dirt road in front of a long, large wall with a stable and a – was that a blacksmith? – in front of it. This … event that happened, the whole thing from start to finish, from the time the light appeared to when I was moved to when it disappeared, was indescribably quick. So quick, I hadn’t even had time to process it happening, and when I felt like I could finally breathe, a stab of pure fear felt like it enveloped me before I was suddenly yanked forcefully into darkness. The last thing I coherently remembered was the pain of my ass hitting the ground and someone yelling before everything else ceased.

+

I woke up with a start, suddenly and viciously, and a split second after I opened my eyes, a raging headache came roaring in with a fury. Inhaling a sharp groan, I grabbed at my head, screwing my eyes shut as if that would help, as if opening my eyes had triggered the pain to begin with. Hell, maybe it had. I was no expert. Somewhat distantly, I heard a rustle of fabric and an oddly familiar voice ask, “Are you alright?”

“No,” I whimpered, just this side of pathetic, rolling over in some vain attempt to figure out if there was a position or something I could do to somehow lessen the pain in any way. My hands were freezing cold – really, so was most of my body, from being soaked with rain – but the chill didn’t seem to help much at all with the sudden, severe headache.

More rustling and some murmuring voices, low enough volume that I would have had to work to hear what they were saying, but even that little effort was too much. Instead, I just laid there, resisting the urge to moan as I knew making noise wouldn’t make a dime of difference in how my head felt. Some more fabric rustling later, and a large, heavy hand rested on my shoulder, a second voice telling me, “Arthur’s gone to fetch Dorian, just hold on.”

I nodded weakly, trying to focus on breathing deeply in and out, as if some sort of pseudo-meditative trance would somehow help with the pain. It did not. Because of course it didn’t. But really, what else could I do? I could only lie there and wait for … whoever … to come help me. _Hopefully they have some really nice narcotics. I could use some. Especially after today._

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, though since I was in pain it felt like a small eternity until there was more rustling and a voice hovered above me that demanded, “Here, turn over onto your back so I can try to see what’s going on.” I complied with the order, even lowering my hands, but I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to risk opening them and worsening the stabbing pain that felt like it was currently trying to rend my skull in half. I didn’t feel any hands on me, like someone was physically examining me, and I was so curious as to what was going on I almost wanted to open my eyes and look. Almost. In truth, I didn’t care what the fuck anyone did, as long as they made me feel better, they could sacrifice a goat to an elder god and dance in the blood and I’d be cool with it. Through the quiet, I did hear a low hum, almost like a vibration but not quite … physical? It was difficult for my brain to latch onto and describe things in its current state, and so I didn’t trouble myself too deeply with it. Whatever this dude was doing, it wasn’t long before he figured out something and pronounced, “It’s the bond, it’s having trouble cementing, I’m not sure why.”

That first, familiar voice spoke up. “Can you do anything?”

“I … can try to force it through.”

“Will it hurt her?” the second voice asked.

“It will not be comfortable, that’s for sure. But it will speed up the process and get all that nasty bit done and over with.”

I was already in a fuck-ton of pain, so much so my hands were shaking and I could feel my chest getting tight with anxiety. So pain itself, I wasn’t too worried about, I just wanted it over with. And if I had to go through just a little bit more to get to that relief? Then so be it. “Just do it,” I croaked, clenching my teeth.

“Very well then, the patient has spoken.” A smooth, warm hand rested against my forehead, so warm I could feel the heat just radiating off of it, and strangely enough my skin tingled where it contacted. I heard the owner of said hand take a deep breath, and then, “Alright, here we go.” The hand, it … I swore it started to vibrate, and I started to freak out just a little as I felt the pain coalesce into a very specific point in the back of my skull. My breathing was shallow, just enough to draw in shuddering breaths, I didn’t feel like I could even move. “Almost there, just a little more ...” Suddenly, like shoving a needle through a new piercing, it was over. Well, not quite like that. The pain intensified so quickly and then dissipated just as fast that my eyes flew open involuntarily as I couldn’t help the loud whine that was torn from my lips. But then it was over, and I was just lying there, my body shaking in the aftermath of that intense flash.

But my problems were only just beginning. Because now that I could see clearly and my mind wasn’t fogged by pain, it was trying to answer some very serious, important questions. Like, where the fuck was I, why did the people around me look like they were from Thedas, and how the fuck was I going to get back home. _Oh, fuck me sideways_.


	2. Chapter 2

My mind was racing, trying to put the pieces together, trying to figure out what was going on, but it was coming up empty. There was no logical reason for this, no possible way I had actually been transported to Thedas, so there had to be some other explanation, there just had to be. In my confused state, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my mind. “Oh gods, am I dead?”

What my mind recognised as The Iron Bull raised his eyebrow as he commented, “I certainly hope not.”

Dorian – Dorian Pavus, I realised, that’s who had been fetched – chuckled and gestured. “No, no, far from it. You’re quite healthy, actually, which is a bit of a surprise considering you fell out of a rift.”

_No, no, this … just no!_ I refused to even entertain the possibility that this was real, and so my mind leapt to the next possibility in line, like it was checking off a list. “Oh fuck, I was in an accident, wasn’t I? This is some crazy dream I’m having while I’m in a coma. No, wait, the last thing I remember I was at home … I was dropping off my purse in my room, I … I must have just fallen asleep. Yes!” I exclaimed, sitting up. “That’s it! This day has just been such a shit show, I said fuck it and went back to bed.”

“Hmm, solid idea, but no,” Dorian struck down. “I’m afraid you’re conscious, my dear.”

I outright laughed at him. “No, that’s ridiculous. Thedas isn’t real, it’s just a … just a glorified _story._ No, I have to be having one of the most ridiculous lucid dreams of my life.” Without even thinking about it, I immediately moved to push my index finger through the opposite palm, repeating, _Am I dreaming?_ As was typical in actual dreams, I fully expected to push the one hand through the other, but when I met actual resistance, everything in me stilled as a cold chill settled in my gut. _No, no I need to wake up. Wake up. Wake. Up. Wake up, wake up, wake up. WAKE UP. WAKE. UP. WAKE UP NOW. NOW. NOW. WAKE UP NOW._

While previously, I’d only been truly successful at waking myself fully out of a lucid dream that way once, at the very least it usually helped shift an uncomfortable dream state into something else, something new. However, nothing happened. No waking, not even any shifting into a new dream. I was … I was stuck.

No, not stuck. I was awake.

Dorian still knelt in front of me, moving only to gently place a hand on my wrist. “Hate to break it to you, but this is no dream, dearie.”

“But ...” I still protested, “this doesn’t make any sense!”

The Tevinter mage chuckled. “And believe me, you are not the only one thinking that. You appeared out of a rift that opened just outside Haven, a rift that deposited you and only you – no demons for once – and the bag you were carrying is full of odd little trinkets that only further add to the mystery of just who you are. I daresay, Leliana’s agents are having quite the time attempting to put together those puzzle pieces.”

Just at the mention of the Spymaster, I could feel the blood draining from my face. Though Leliana was a character I typically liked pretty well in game, that was from the perspective of the Hero of Ferelden or the Herald of Andraste and I was decidedly _not._ And since I had no idea where I would stand with her – and I had a pretty damn good idea I was currently filed under _suspicious as hell_ – that scared me to my core. I had no idea what she might do to me, or have done to me. Of course, I also mentally noted that I was even closer to a fucking Ben-Hassrath agent, one who could quite literally reach out and snap my neck with one hand, but somehow even the Qunari organisation and it’s towering tree trunk of an agent didn’t frighten me quite like the Left Hand did.

And then it finally settled in: I was in Thedas. I had no idea how I’d been transported here or why, but whoever had done it and for whatever reason, what was done was done; there was seemingly no going back. And that … that scared me. Shook me to my core, the fact that everything I knew and was familiar with could just be ripped away, just like that. Granted I wasn’t wholly unfamiliar with this world, but I had navigated it as someone who could actually fight and defend themselves and do things. I was no warrior or mage or rogue. I couldn’t fight, couldn’t cast spells, had never touched a bow in my life, and the only knives I’d handled were kitchen knives used for chopping up vegetables or meat. Hell, every single person standing around me, from The Iron Bull to Dorian Pavus to even Blackwall – err, Thom Rainier – standing in the tent’s entrance had killed someone. And for me, just the thought of that made my stomach want to turn, and it was roiling already. My head felt like it was spinning and I clutched my stomach as I feared I might vomit, my breathing becoming steadily heavier as the facts started to sink in and drive the point home. _You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy_.

My nails sunk into the exposed skin of my arm as the urge to try to rip my crawling skin off me grew stronger. Truly, I didn’t even feel the sharp pain until a rush of colourful fabric fluttered in front of my face, Dorian kneeling in front of me and grabbing me by my shoulders. “Fasta vass, Faye, focus!” he exclaimed, and as he did, it almost felt like I was smothered by a warm blanket. Not physically, but … mentally? Was that the right word? It was the oddest sensation, but while the anxiety was not completely gone, it was muffled, like whatever had happened was helping keep the worst of it at bay.

I swallowed hard as my breathing slowed, asking, “What the fuck was that?”

Dorian’s head cocked to the side. “What was what?”

“That … spell, or whatever the fuck you did.”

He chuckled. “Fasta vass is just a swear in Tevene.”

I shook my head. “Not that ...” sighing, fearing that this was becoming far more troublesome than it had been to begin with – and it was certainly troublesome already – I tried to explain, “I mean, how did I calm down just like that?”

“Ah. That was your bond.”

“My … bond?”

“Yes, your pack bond.”

“Pack bond?” He may as well have been speaking ancient Elven for all that explained. “Uh, you’re gonna hafta explain it like I’m five, here.”

“The one I had to cement for you. Curious, it settled in almost immediately for all of us, I’m not sure why it gave you such trouble.”

The pause in the tent was so pregnant I swore it was about to go into labour before I finally said, “Okay, explain it like I’m really, really, really stupid.”

Dorian crossed his arms. “Well, how stupid are we talking?” he posited facetiously, sarcasm practically dripping off of each and every word.

I couldn’t help the snort. “Like I’ve never heard the words ‘pack’ and ‘bond’ in the same sentence.”

His eyebrows could have almost shot off his forehead. “You’ve never heard that term before? Not at all?” I shook my head in confirmation and the mage sighed, pinching his nose as it looked like he was a parent about to give me the whole talk about the birds and the bees. “A pack bond is something that ties together a group of people, hence the term ‘pack’. It can be completely platonic, completely sexual or romantic, or somewhere in between. That part is usually up to its individual members. The bond itself is empathic, meaning the members don’t read each other’s thoughts, but merely pick up on their moods and feelings. They can also influence each other, as you just witnessed us calming you.”

“Wait … us?”

“Yes, us. Blackwall and Bull and I.”

Rubbing my forehead as I digested the news, I asked, “Is this … all? I mean, of this pack.”

“No, no. There’s also Cullen, Sera, Krem, Varric, Josephine, and presumably Lysander and Rylen, though they’re not here to confirm.”

_Fucking hell, that’s almost the whole upper echelon of Inquisition members._ Out of all of the names he threw out, however, one caught me funny. “Who’s Lysander?” I asked, unable to recall a character by that name.

“Lysander Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste?” Dorian clucked his tongue as he commented, “Whatever story you were referring to earlier must not have been very extensive if it didn’t name the Herald.”

“It’s not that, it’s just ...” I sighed, coming up empty with trying to figure out a way to explain video games to the characters who normally inhabited it, characters who existed in a world with technology akin to our world’s medieval era. With magic, of course, but still. “I don’t really know how to explain it all, but it’s not a traditional story, per se.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps Varric will be more amenable to an explanation?”

“It’s not that, we have two completely different vocabularies. Where I’m from, we’ve developed things that you guys have never even dreamed of, not even in the craziest reaches of the Fade. To explain how I know Thedas would mean having to explain my entire world and its history and ...” rubbing my temples, I mumbled, “just the thought of that is giving me a headache.”

After a short pause, Dorian spoke up, his tone more gentle than before. “Come. You’re soaking wet and in need of warming up, and Blackwall’s tent isn’t going to get you there. I have a cabin up in Haven proper with a roaring fire and some wine somewhere. You look like you could use a drink.”

Sighing softly, I relented. “I’ll pass on the drink, but the fire sounds nice.”

He helped me to my feet as he threw out to the other two men present, “Tell Cullen where I’ve taken her, he can meet us at my cabin.”

“Of course,” Blackwall replied, moving aside from the entrance and holding open the flap.

Wrapping my arms around me, I followed the Tevinter mage outside of the tent, the action somehow indicative of the finality of it all. Because as long as I stayed in that tent, I could try to excuse everything away, like it was some big hallucination or something of the sort. But actually walking out and starting to interact with the world? It just made it all that much more real, and while that prospect scared me, there was nothing else I could do at the moment but accept it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this sooner, I truly did. Sorry.

I shivered in the chilly air as Dorian led me through the gates, snow crunching under my boots that I was suddenly grateful I’d thought to don this morning. I was wishing for some thicker material elsewhere, though I doubt it would have mattered much with how soaked I was. The leggings, sleeveless dress, and loose button up still wouldn’t have offered much protection even if I was bone dry, though. I tried valiantly to keep my teeth from chattering as I followed the mage up and through the little settlement around the chantry, passing the fire pit where Varric eyed me before clearing the tavern and making our way up the stone steps that lead toward Adan’s alchemical building. Before we reached it, however, Dorian paused and opened the door to the cabin on the left, the one across from the one that Solas normally stood outside of, and ushered me inside.

The heat from the fire hit me immediately, enveloping me as I softly sighed. I was still wet and chilled, but with the ambient temperature raised, I could start to feel comfortable. Dorian had me sit at the table while he fetched a bottle from the cupboard. “Sure you don’t want a drink?”

I shook my head. “Probably best not to, feeling the way I am.”

“Oh?” he asked casually as he poured himself a glass. “And how is that, exactly?

“Like ...” I knew he was likely asking how I was physically, but as I leaned my elbows on the table, resting my face in my hands, tears starting to blur my vision and I blurted out, “… like everything’s actually, finally hitting that everything I knew … is gone. My friends, my job, my apartment, my entire fucking world … gone.” The fear and the panic started to creep up on me again, try as I might to suppress it. How could I, truly? I was in an entirely new world, a world that, up until just earlier, I’d thought completely fiction. How could this happen? What was going on? The whole pack bond thing was actually the least of my worries at the moment, now that things were starting to click and settle into place in my mind. At the forefront was things like my complete inability to fend for myself, my lack of knowledge to acquire much if any of an income, and the horrendously dangerous time I’d unwittingly landed in. I’d snuck a look at the sky on the way into Haven and had quickly looked away, unnerved by the sight of the Breach. In game it actually looked … pretty, somehow … but in real life, knowing what it was and what it could do and that it could affect me personally, directly … it gave the sight an ominous sheen that couldn’t be shaken. I couldn’t fault The Iron Bull for being leery of it anymore; if I never looked up again, it would be too soon. My mind raced as I tried to put together a timeline, realising that if The Iron Bull and Blackwall and Sera were here, then the Herald had already gone to Val Royeux. And likewise, since Dorian was present, that meant that the Inquisition had sought the mages for help and recruited them, whether by offering a full alliance or conscription. But with the Breach still in the sky and Haven still intact, that meant … _Oh shit. Corypheus hasn’t touched down here yet. And nobody knows he will. Nobody except me. Fuck!_

Before I knew it, a cup was pressed into my hand, but before I could refuse Dorian’s offer of a drink again, he countered with, “It’s not alcohol, merely a calming draught. There’s only so much comfort a pack bond can offer, unfortunately, and I don’t think it was quite meant to cover situations like this.”

“Thank you,” I murmured before taking an experimental sip, the sweet herbal remedy reminding me of chamomile tea with a hint of licorice and another flavour I couldn’t quite place. True to Dorian’s word, by the time I had gulped down probably two-thirds of the cup, I was feeling considerably calmer. Downright drowsy, even. Not really _drunk,_ exactly, but definitely relaxed and with a certain level of lowered inhibitions. Setting the cup on the table, I propped my head up on my hand and looked the Tevinter mage in the eye. “Dude, this is so fucked up. I have no idea where to even begin on the scale of … fucked up-ness. But it’s pretty fucking high.”

He chuckled. “Drought hitting you a little hard, eh? Slow it down a little.”

When Dorian Pavus told you to slow down, no matter what you were drinking, you slowed the fuck down. Taking one last sip, I set the cup down on the table for good, folding my other arm under me. “So … what happens to me now? Do you hand me over to Leliana and let her torture me for information?”

His smirk suggested his mirth, though he didn’t laugh outright. “No, nothing quite like that. Of course, had the pack bond not settled, then … perhaps it would be different. But because of that, your intentions are easily read by us, and while the circumstances of your arrival are curious, most of us are assured you mean us no harm.”

_“Most_ of you?”

“Astute one, I see,” he commented as he took a sip of wine out of his own cup. “The Inquisition is not a hive mind. There will always be differences in opinion. Leliana and Cassandra are not involved in the pack bond, and though they at least trust some of us, they are not so trusting as to completely erase any and all suspicion.”

“Fantastic.”

“It is not as bleak as you seem to think,” he assured. “They are slow to trust, and for good reason.”

I nodded, understanding their reasons for caution, simply apprehensive of what that might mean for me. Before Dorian and I could say anything more, however, there was a knock and the door, and my mage companion rose to answer it, a cold wind blasting in and making me shiver. The door wasn’t open long, however, just enough for whoever had knocked on it to come in, and sure enough a certain familiar, blond commander had come stepping through. I froze a moment at the table as we locked eyes and he likewise stopped in his tracks before Dorian asked him what he’d brought, bringing his attention to the mage. “We don’t have much to spare that isn’t armour, but I found something basic to do for now that isn’t sopping wet. Josephine will be working on more, but she’s not sure when it may come.”

Dorian, polite as ever, took a small bundle from him as he replied smoothly, “Thank you, Commander, I’m sure it will suffice for now.”

Nodding, Cullen threw one more glance at me before he said, “If you’ll pardon me, I need to get back to the troops. They’re getting there, but most could use some more training.”

_They’re gonna need it,_ I thought, gulping as I remembered what happened after the Herald closed the Breach, the assault on Haven, and how many lives were lost. My scalp tingled, the roots of my hair feeling like they stood on end as I considered the fact that, with my foreknowledge, I could potentially help negate some of those losses. However, the big question was … would anyone believe me before it was too late?

Dorian nodded, continuing his little conversation with Cullen, completely oblivious to the horde of possibilities that were opening up in my mind. “How are the mages coming along with Vivienne?”

“Doing fine, as far as I can tell.” Cullen smirked for a moment as he added, “I suspect they prefer your tutelage to hers, however.”

He chuckled. “Well they will have to survive a day without me. I’m entitled to breaks, you know.”

The Commander threw up his hands as if to say he wasn’t protesting the point before he backed toward the door and opened it. Before he stepped through, he threw one last glance toward me before his gaze returned to Dorian. “See you later, then?”

“That’s the plan,” Dorian replied crisply before the former Templar shut the door behind him. Before I could ask about it further, however, I was being ushered to my feet as the package Cullen had brought was opened. Inside was a pair of what looked like leggings – not of the stretchy variety like I was used to, unfortunately – a long sleeved, gauzy undershirt, thick woollen socks, an overshirt that reminded me of the default shirt that the Inquisitor typically wore in Skyhold, and a thick cloak that looked rather large for me. I wasn’t about to complain at all, however, eager to strip down and get something on that wasn’t damp. As I took off my button up and kicked off my boots and leggings, Dorian dragged a rack over to sit in front of the fire so that the clothes I wore could be draped over it and dry that much quicker. I almost hesitated to pull off my dress, but at that point I was in full fuck it mode. Not only was I in the ass-end of Thedas, sopping wet and freezing cold, I was stripping in front of possibly the most gorgeous man in existence in these lands. Somewhat fortunate for myself, I knew he wouldn’t be interested in me like that, and so I handed him the dress before I reached for the shirt and started unfolding it. Before I could get it on, however, I felt the barest hint of fingertips brush my back. Turning my head, I saw that Dorian had stood up from the fire and was intently examining the large tattoo on my back, following it along to the work on my arms, ribs, and legs. “Fascinating,” he commented, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I’ve never seen work like this before.”

Chuckling, I threw back, “I imagine you haven’t.” Despite Dorian being gay, I was still somewhat glad that instead of a thong, I’d opted for boy shorts that morning that actually fully covered my ass. Even though smalls were included in the pack, I didn’t feel quite comfortable enough stripping down completely naked in front of anyone, and so I just threw on the undershirt and leggings before sitting on one of the chairs to pull up the socks. As I did, one more thing hit me, so little in the scope of everything that had happened that the only reason it hadn’t occurred to me before was that it was so seemingly insignificant. “Dorian?”

“Yes?”

“In the tent, you called me by my name … how did you know?”

“Ah, well that’s answered easily enough,” he said as he finished up carefully arranging my clothes on the rack, “in the bag you were carrying, amoungst various interesting and inexplainable objects, I found what appeared to be some sort of identification for you. It had your picture on it, at least, and the name ‘Faye Ainsley’, so I put two and two together, as it were.”

Well that explained that. However I groaned as I then realised, “Leliana has my bag now, doesn’t she?”

“She does. Although I’m not sure if she’ll have any easier of a time deciphering what all you were carrying.”

“That means she’s gonna wanna talk to me later ...” Even without our connection now, there was no way Dorian didn’t pick up on the worry and fear that laced my words.

Pulling up a chair, he sat down in front of me so he could look me in the eye. “She will. And I’m sure she will want to know everything about you, whether you can explain it or not. Just be honest with her, even if she can’t empathically suss you out, she has other means.”

“I know. It’s those ‘other means’ I’m worried about.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think she’s going to throw you in one of her dungeons just yet. You fell out of a rift, through no fault of your own. Much like Lysander, and he was initially treated with suspicion, from what I hear.”

“Yeah but he also has the mark and the means to close rifts. I’m lucky if I can make a decent grilled cheese sandwich.”

Dorian smiled wryly, his moustache curling as he commented, “Well it’s a good thing that grilled cheese sandwiches aren’t a requirement for preventing the end of the world, then, isn’t it?” I couldn’t help the chuckle and he followed up with, “Believe you me, I understand this is strange. But pack bonds happen for reasons, they don’t just happen with anyone, not even with friends who have been together for years. There are big events going on in the world right now, and a pack bond coalescing in the upper tier of the Inquisition? Just solidifies that we are doing something important, I think.”

I let his words sink in for a moment before I asked, “But why me? I don’t have any special skills to fight Corypheus.”

His eyebrow arched at the mention of the Elder One’s name. “Corypheus? That’s who’s behind all this?”

_Oh shit, that’s right, they don’t know yet._ “Right, you guys haven’t found that out yet. Fuck. Well, there ya go, free of charge.”

Leaning back in the chair, he mused. “Perhaps that is what you offer for us. Information.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s nothing you won’t find out or figure out later. Although ...” If I could just get the right people to trust me, then maybe I could ensure that not as many people would die at Haven when Corypheus and the Red Templars attacked. I could also give them as much information as would be helpful on their different missions and battles, keeping them apprised of dangers they would face and how to compensate. Maybe … maybe I wasn’t completely useless. Of course, if they would actually use and act on the information I gave them, that remained to be seen. But surely I could at least try … right? And if they chose to ignore the information, then that would be on them. They were all adults, after all, if they chose to not trust me or what I would tell them, they could certainly do that. All that mattered was that I tried.

“Although what?” Dorian prompted, and I realised I had just trailed off and gotten lost in thought.

I shook my head. “It’s complicated.” Resting my head against my palm, I noted, “Trying to untangle everything is giving me a headache.” A chuckle of mad laughter forced its way to the surface as I pondered, “I don’t think today could be any more fucked up if it tried.”

“Well it’s only about midday, so let’s not tempt anything, shall we?” Leaning forward, he brushed the back of his fingers against my forehead. “Hmmm. You don’t seem to be too worse for the wear after landing in a snowy landscape whilst soaking wet. How do you feel? Physically?”

That was a loaded question, and I was glad he added that last qualifier on there because honestly … I had no idea. Swirls of panic and fear and wonder and apprehension and curiousity all swirled into one big, muddy mess. Physically speaking, however, aside from a light headache that could be easily dismissed and a stomach that didn’t seem quite as rebellious as before, I mostly felt … “Exhausted. This is just … a lot to process.”

“Understandable. Here, why don’t you lie down for a little while? I doubt anyone will be barging in anytime soon to talk to you.”

By anyone I assumed he meant Leliana or possibly even Cassandra, and the thought of having to talk with them later left me on edge. But if that wasn’t going to be for some time yet, I figured might as well take him up on the offer and try to nap. To be quite honest, I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to fall asleep – though the idea of lying down and resting my eyes did sound nice – but between the warmth emanating from the fire and the calming drought I’d consumed earlier, I barely even realised I was dozing before I fell fast asleep, my last coherent memory feeling a blanket being lightly draped over top of me.


	4. Chapter 4

The snap and crackle of a wood fire suddenly permeated through my consciousness as I snapped awake, consciously unaware of any dreams I’d experienced, but still I had the creeping feeling of whispers and eyes on me before I woke. For just a moment, with the confusion of suddenly waking before my body was quite ready, I forgot everything that had happened since I initially woke that morning and thought I was still in my apartment, so I laid there trying to figure out what that sound was and where it was coming from. The events of the day came flooding back to me quickly, however, one right after the other, and as I opened my eyes I found that I’d barely moved from the position I’d laid down in earlier. Perhaps the only difference was that I clutched a pillow to me like my life depended on it, but that was really no different than how I slept normally. When I’d had the occasion to have a significant other, I usually snuggled the hell out of them, and without someone to snuggle I resorted to pillows. As much as I wanted to, however, I couldn’t put off getting up, and so I stretched for just a moment before I sat up.

And startled at seeing a burly mountain of a man.

Blackwall was sitting at the table, quietly whittling at a stick, though he looked up to hear me gasp. “It’s alright, it’s just me. Dorian was needed and didn’t want to leave you all alone,” he explained.

“Right,” was all I said in reply, my voice thick with sleep as I nodded. Of course, more than likely was the case that nobody wanted me to be left alone for fear of what I might do. I was, after all, an unknown. A random person who fell through a rift with a bag full of weird shit. I had to have a guard. And so if Dorian couldn’t keep watch, apparently it fell to Blackwall. I was honestly surprised they hadn’t set the Ben-Hassrath agent after me, but perhaps they didn’t want to overwhelm me and make me shut up. After all, Dorian had gotten me to loosen up and as a result I’d revealed the name of their foe, the one who had created the Breach. Catch more flies with honey and all that.

Crawling out of bed, I straightened up the blanket so the bed looked undisturbed, determined to be a gracious guest even if they decided to throw me in the dungeon. Blackwall slipped his little knife back into its sheath and tucked the piece of wood he was working on in his pocket. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Um ...” I had to think about that, actually. I couldn’t even remember what I’d last eaten, never mind when. So many things had happened to me all in the span of less than twenty-four hours, to the point where it felt like days since I’d woken up and discovered my wifi was down. I had been planning on having some nice leftovers for breakfast but … I had ended up on the phone with my ISP, and after that whole shebang I had been far too frustrated and high strung and I’d immediately dressed and left for the store, neglecting food entirely. That meant … “Must have been last night,” I replied.

“Last night?” he repeated, seemingly surprised. “That long?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I woke up to a shitty situation this morning, and no matter what I did things just seemed to get worse and worse … and then it all culminated with me apparently falling out of a rift outside of Haven, so … yeah, eating was kinda bumped down on my priority list.”

“Sounds like something we need to fix, then,” he commented, standing up.

My stomach twisted in protest and I took a deep breath to keep the anxiety-induced nausea at bay. “I’m not sure I can even eat at all right now.”

“You can’t just not eat,” Blackwall countered. “Even if it’s light, you still need to eat something.” Tossing the overshirt at me, he nodded toward the door. “Flissa makes a mean bone broth that’s great for dipping some bread in. C’mon. My treat.”

I was about to protest, to say that I couldn’t possibly expect him to provide a meal for me, but that soft look on his face that contrasted with the large, hairy frame it was set in just completely undid me. Even and especially knowing exactly who this person really was, that he wasn’t actually a Warden, that he’d only taken the name and tried to do good things in that name so that maybe, somehow, he could wash away the guilt that plagued him. He tried so hard to be the man that everybody thought he was, trying so hard he couldn’t even see he’d accomplished it already. I had admittedly gotten the game with the prospect of romancing Cullen – _finally_ – but after meeting Blackwall and figuring out his whole story … well, let’s just say my romance choices became a lot more conflicted after that. It was that same, disarming look he gave me that I recognised so well in the game, and before I knew it I found myself donning the overshirt and pulling on my boots and new cloak before I joined Blackwall as he lead the way to the tavern in Haven.

The place wasn’t as packed as I thought it might be, but I counted it a blessing as Blackwall put in the order and sat us down at a far table tucked in the corner. Not even Sera was in there, and I briefly wondered where the Elven rogue was. I wasn’t about to ask and make it look like I was fishing for information, however, though there was one piece of information that had been floating around in my brain, waiting for its chance to emerge. And now it seemed the perfect time. “So,” I began, clearing my throat, “Arthur Blackwall?”

He nodded. “’S my name.”

 _Of course, Thom._ “Ah. It’s just, in the story I’m familiar with, they never really gave us your first name. You were just ‘Warden Blackwall’.”

“Was I, now?” He looked admittedly curious, like he wanted to ask more, but he didn’t. Likely afraid of what I might tell him, of what I might know. I knew everything about him, of course. His real name, his crime. I also knew of the guilt that wracked him, the self-hate he endured every day, living the name of another man – in his eyes, a better man – as he strove to live up to some nigh-impossible standard he’d set up for himself. As if him reaching that goal would somehow ease the guilt that he carried, as if that would give him some measure of peace. Perhaps that was why he set that goal so far out of reach, because he wouldn’t achieve it, he knew he wouldn’t. Just like he subconsciously knew he wouldn’t find the peace he wanted so badly. I wasn’t about to let him wallow in this pool of self-defeat forever, but I wasn’t going to push him too far and too fast. For him, perhaps worse than someone knowing who he really was, was someone knowing his real identity and keeping it a secret for him. And so I would let him keep his real name to himself for now, and I would wait until the opportune time to talk with him more about it.

For the time being, I simply replied, “I’m glad to know, I would have felt awkward just calling you ‘Blackwall’ all the time.”

He just chuckled and shook his head, likely amused at the thought of everyone simply using “Blackwall” to refer to him. Flissa delivered a bowl of bone broth and what looked like a good quarter of a loaf of bread, and my stomach twisted to see the food in front of me. Under the faux Warden’s watchful eye, however, I couldn’t refuse this meal, and so I picked up the spoon and gently blew on the broth to cool it down some before I took a cautious sip. True to his word, the broth was packed full of flavour, enough to make me think that I would definitely get full off of this alone. And when I dipped the bread in it, the soft wheat just soaked it all up. Definitely a perfect meal for my sensitive stomach.

I wondered just what would happen to me, as surely Leliana wasn’t going to just let me wander around freely in Haven for too long. And sure enough, just as I was finishing up, The Iron Bull entered the tavern, greeting Flissa before he eyed Blackwall and tilted his head, indicating a want to speak with him, and apart from me. My companion excused himself to make his way over to the Qunari mercenary, and I took that opportunity to finish up the loaf and the bowl of broth I’d been given, nerves hitting me hard all of a sudden. I knew that answers would be wanted but … I had no real answers to give anyone. And they had no real reason to believe me. So we were at a bit of an impasse … which was not good news for me. Whatever force out there in the universe that had decided to yank me from my world and dump me in this one sure had shit timing, as about the only other time that could have possibly been worse would have been southern Fereldan during the Fifth Blight. This particular point was just below that. Almost barely, at times.

As I set down the bowl, Blackwall approached me, The Iron Bull hanging back. “Here,” he said, “I’ll take the bowl and spoon back to Flissa. The Bull wants you to go with him.”

I gulped, knowing that that implied, but nodded, placing the spoon back in the bowl and handing it to him as I got up. I paused only long enough to pull my cloak back on before I timidly made my way over to the Qunari. He nodded at me and opened the door, beckoning me to follow, and I did, despite everything in my body screaming at me to just run from the coming danger. But I didn’t. No, instead, I followed The Iron Bull as he lead me out of the tavern and made for an ambling path that I was sure would lead back to the Chantry at some point. He didn’t lead me there immediately, however, and that instantly made me more nervous, wondering just what his game plan was. Knowing his Ben-Hassrath ways, he rarely if ever simply did things just to do them, especially when it came to other people. There was always another motive, always something he was looking for. He was looking to get me alone to read me, and I knew I would just be a fucking open book for him to peruse.

For what seemed like the longest time, he was quiet, and I chewed on my lip as I waited, knowing he wanted to say something, wondering if he was waiting for me to speak first. I figured he was, more than likely, ready to judge just what exactly I would say, weighing it against whatever he felt in our pack bond. I had to wonder if he ever shut it off, if he ever stopped, or if it was just second nature. Probably the latter, though maybe if he became Tal-Vashoth he would ease up. Well, I supposed I would find out, then. That is, if they kept me around long enough.

I felt him staring and I looked up at him, catching him. He raised an eyebrow and grunted out a laugh. “So, this South Caro-lee-na … is there a North Caro-lee-na, too?”

Smirking, I couldn’t help the sarcasm as I replied. “Carolina. And yes, there is. There’s also a North and South Dakota and a Virginia and West Virginia.”

He guffawed at my sass. “Not very creative at naming, then.”

“Well there are fifty of them, I suppose creativity runs thin at some points.” As my gaze flicked over, I saw his eyebrow raise, and I realised he had no idea what I was talking about. “Right, you don’t know shit about the United States. Never mind.” We walked a little more around Haven, skirting around the outside, and I finally asked, “So when is Leliana expecting us?”

“What makes you think that’s where we’re going? Maybe I just wanted to take a walk with you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because Leliana wants to see me, I know she does. It makes sense that she’d send a Ben-Hassrath agent to escort me to her, not knowing what kind of threat I might pose.”

“And that’s what you think, hmm?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You telling me she wouldn’t send for me by using a Qunari who could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist if I got out of pocket?”

He hummed before he replied, “You’re very perceptive.”

Shrugging, I mused, “Not really. Not normally, at least. But this isn’t normal.”

Sure enough, as we’d been talking, our path wound around and back up to the Chantry where I was sure Leliana was waiting. Swallowing hard, a flutter of nerves alighted in my stomach, threatening to wretch up the broth and bread I’d just eaten. As it threatened to overtake me, that mental blanket felt like it wrapped around me, and a large hand settled on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you can take a walk with a Ben-Hassrath, you can talk to the Left Hand of the Divine.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I grumbled.

“Well, if it’s any comfort, she can’t reach out and snap your neck with a flick of her wrist." He paused for the barest moment before he added the caveat, "At least, I don’t think she can.”

Fixing him with a stare, I told him, “That doesn’t really help.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of her and not me.”

Sighing as we entered the Chantry, I told him truthfully. “I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid of you. I’m just afraid of her _more.”_

The Bull’s amused laughter rang through the Chantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to notate in previous chapters ... since Blackwall's faux first name is never specified (and it also feels weird for me to just call him Blackwall all the time), I've given him a first name all my own since I haven't been able to find any canon proof of a first name for him. I have seen "Gordon Blackwall" thrown around, even in tags here on AO3, but I've been unable to tie that to actual canon sources and not just headcanon type of stuff, so I chose my own name - Arthur - instead of going with Gordon and potentially stepping on someone else's toes.


	5. Chapter 5

For what I was told was just a discussion, the room I was in sure felt like I was under interrogation. I, of course, knew that already, knew that I was being analysed up one side and down the other. It just seemed like other people wanted to at least keep up the pageantry of the whole thing. Besides Leliana and The Iron Bull, also present was Cassandra, Cullen, Dorian, and, surprisingly, Vivienne and Varric. I suppose my mention of stories might have motivated them to bring in the resident writer and storyteller, himself, though what the Loyalist mage was doing here, I couldn’t begin to say. I was motioned to sit in a chair in the middle of the room, far enough from the door that I couldn’t just make a mad dash, enough space all around so that I could be carefully watched from all angles. I felt unnerved by the whole thing, but I suppose that was part of the point as well, to tip me off balance, make me uncomfortable, so that I would tell them anything just to get out of that room. And boy was it ever working. Despite that want, however, I had to try to keep a lid on some things, at least. Reveal too much too soon, and I could risk putting something far worse into motion as Corypheus would counter in ways I wouldn’t even know, potentially in ways that the Inquisition wouldn’t be able to account for and act against. It was a delicate balancing act.

And my balance was shit.

I worked to focus on breathing evenly, in and out, as Leliana approached me, holding what appeared to be my driver’s license in her hand. “Faye Ainsley,” she said plainly, as if she was simply reading off the information, and I nodded, waiting for her to continue. Her eyes darted to the card in front of her for just a moment before they were back on me. “I’ve never heard of this ‘South Caro-lee-na’.”

“Carolina,” I immediately said, berating myself for not being able to stop the correction from coming out of my mouth. “And I don’t imagine you would. It’s not in Thedas, or anywhere else in this world.”

She hummed a moment before she lowered the license and said, “So you claim to come from some other world and, what, just conveniently know things about this one? That seems extraordinarily unlikely.”

“I know. Trust me, this is just as weird for me.”

Folding her hands behind her back, she ordered simply, “Tell me how you know of Thedas.”

I arched an eyebrow as I commented, “I’m surprised you aren’t asking what I know about what’s going to happen.”

“I have to trust you to trust you’d tell me the truth. After all, you could be an agent sent in to give us false information, send us on a wild goose chase or else lull us into a false sense of security so our enemy can strike.”

_Well, that does make sense._ However, that left me having to explain exactly how I knew about Thedas in the first place, which involved explaining video games and how they worked and … I had no idea how I was going to do this. There was no equivalent that I could think of to compare them to, no shared experience I could draw from … until one particular set of interactions with a certain character rushed to the forefront. “You know how Solas can travel in the Fade? Witness things that have happened, even things long forgotten?” I paused as if she might respond, but of course she didn’t, so I soldiered on with my explanation. “Well, this is kind of like that … in a way, I guess. Except, instead of just observing things, we can interact. With the world, with people. We can do things that affect certain outcomes, set things in motion that will ripple down the line. Not in a literal, physical way, more like a … simulation. A dream.”

“So you can access the Fade where you’re from?”

“No, not like that.” I sighed, rubbing my face with my hand, trying to find the words I needed to try to describe what was very likely something completely outlandish and nigh incomprehensible to them. “We don’t sleep to do this, we use machines. And it’s not the Fade, I was just trying to … I don’t know, you have absolutely nothing close to even compare this to.”

Cassandra’s gaze hardened. “Perhaps you need to think a little harder, then.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle. _Should I just outright explain and let her puzzle over the words I use?_ I tried to give it one more shot, at least. “Our … levels of technology is vastly different. Where you’re at these days as far as weapons, housing, cooking, tools, materials, communication, medicine, day to day life … we left all this behind hundreds of years ago. We industrialised. You have no concept of the exact words I would use because you have no context for them, words like television, Playstation, Xbox, Nintendo, video game, computer ... I mean, I can’t just sit here and tell you I’ve played out this story in a video game on my Xbox because that’s just gibberish to you. The Fade example … it’s the closest I can get to explain what it’s like.”

Leliana’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, but I otherwise had little other indication of a reaction out of her. “If it is as you say, then how is it our worlds are connected in this strange way, you think?”

I huffed out a breath of air and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? I’m not a physicist or even a scientist in general. I have barely a layman’s understanding of string theory, and I only have that because I’m curious and I like to read and that’s pretty much about all I got.”

She at least seemed mildly curious at, “String theory? What is that?”

Hoo boy, why did I keep stepping into shit? Rubbing my forehead, I prefaced by saying, “Mind you, I did say I had barely a layman’s understanding, so don’t consider this the word of an expert by any means. But, the basic gist is that it posits that there are other … universes out there. Planes of dimension that coexist alongside our own. Some of them are so alike they have little or no discernable differences. Some have notable differences and deviations but enough commonality to draw reference from. And others are so different, there’s nothing to even recognise as familiar.”

“Ah. So you’re saying that your world and ours are parallel, then?”

“If we’re taking this literally, then yes. But string theory is theoretical, and I don’t really know anything more about it than what I just told you.”

“Well this situation seems far from theoretical,” Cassandra noted. “Whatever the case may be, it’s clear you are not from here, or anywhere close to here, judging by what you were carrying in your bag. Whether your appearance here can be explained or not, the most important piece of this puzzle is whether or not you’re a threat.”

_Then why the hell have you guys been questioning me about where I’m from? Never mind, it’s probably best not to try to understand what they’re after. Probably just some test or something._ I licked my lips nervously and shifted in my seat, not really wanting to think about how Leliana wanted to go about this.

The Left Hand circled my chair, and I resisted the urge to turn and follow her path as she slowly paced. “You are an unknown. Were you a refugee or a volunteer for the Inquisition, we have ways of vetting people. But the way you arrived, your place of origin, there are no such protocols in place for that. We have no idea your skill level and what possible threat you could place to us.”

I bit back the smirk as I retorted, “Why don’t you ask the Ben-Hassrath, pretty sure he’s been watching me closely since I got here.”

Leliana stilled in front of me. “What are you talking about?”

_Really? We’re playing dumb? Well, I suppose they probably don’t want to show their cards unnecessarily._ “The Iron Bull? I already know.”

I heard a grunt of confirmation from where The Bull was standing, leaning up against the wall. “It’s true. She already brought it up with me.”

My eyes flicked to Dorian and I wondered … Did he tell them? Did he tell them I knew who their real enemy is? Not like I expected him to keep a secret, but if I casually mentioned that I’d already told Dorian about it and he hadn’t told them yet – either because he wanted to keep my confidence for some reason or because he hadn’t gotten a chance yet – then I didn’t want to just put him out on front street like that. So instead of involving the Tevinter mage, I threw caution to the wind and simply said, “I also know who your real enemy is, the one that caused the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” Now that got everyone’s attention, and by the way that most everybody except Dorian stiffened, I took that to mean he hadn’t told them. “Varric knows of him, too, he’s met him before, he just doesn’t know that it’s him. Corypheus.”

“Corypheus?” Varric confirmed. “That’s impossible. Hawke ...”

“Killed Corypheus, I know. Only one problem with that … he can transfer himself to other people who carry the taint, like an Archdemon can. Kill the body, he just resurrects himself. Corypheus left the prison in the body of either Larius or Janeka ...” I tossed a glance at Varric, “… depending on who Hawke decided to help.” A look of dawning realisation started blossoming on his face as he started to realise, and I decided to nudge him just a little further as I added, “That’s not all. Corypheus has a new weapon in his arsenal. You already saw it at the Temple of Sacred Ashes … I’m afraid your suspicions are correct. The red lyrium wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Fuck,” Varric muttered under his breath.

“I did notice this ‘red lyrium’ there,” Cullen commented, and I didn’t fail to notice how his hands clenched as he stood there, otherwise stoic. I couldn’t imagine just how difficult it must have been for him to be near that shit, knowing that he was going through withdrawals, knowing how much he must be struggling, and silently. My heart went out to him, as I knew what he’d gone through and also what he was still going through, but to him I was but a stranger, and I didn’t feel comfortable approaching him just yet. Of course, if I was destined to stay here for a while, I just might get a chance. But at the moment I had to try to secure a place for myself, security for my immediate future. Anything more than that wasn’t something I could even begin to think on yet.

“So did I,” Varric ground out. Raising his gaze to meet mine, he asked, “Is she …?”

He didn’t even have to finish the question. “Yup.”

“Fuck!” he cursed much more forcefully, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as I confirmed Bianca’s involvement in this whole thing. Granted, she’d done so unknowingly, but still … knowing how dangerous red lyrium could be, it should have just been common sense to leave that shit alone.

I did feel bad for laying this on him, and so I attempted to soften the blow a little with, “If it’s any comfort, she didn’t realise she was dealing with Corypheus or someone like him. She was trying to research it, figure it out. She figured out it had the Blight’s taint in it, and when she found a Grey Warden eager for research, to her it was logical to pursue it. How was she to know it was the same Grey Warden that Corypheus had resurrected into?”

Leliana hadn’t said anything in a little while, and she regarded me with a contemplative expression, a mix of interest and intrigue with a shade of suspicion. “If what you say is true,” she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, “you would be an invaluable asset to the Inquisition.”

Nodding, I confirmed. “And I’m more than happy to share information.”

She stayed silent for a moment longer, thinking on it, before she asked, “What do you think, Bull? Not as a pack member, as a Ben-Hassrath.”

The Bull didn’t waste any time launching into his thoughts, as if he’d been carefully preparing them in his head from the moment he met me. “So far, based on physical observation alone, she hasn’t displayed any behaviour typical of an infiltrator. The … _sense_ … I get from our bond only seems to back that up. I get only fear, nervousness, apprehension from her, but considering her situation, it reads as appropriate. I would give her information a trial, at least, and for now allow her pack access so long as warriors are present.”

I wasn’t sure exactly what everything he said meant, except that he didn’t see me as a threat and wasn’t advocating for me to be thrown into the dungeon, so that was a plus, for sure. Leliana nodded and seemed to accept his report, though she added, “I’d like a little more independent verification of one thing. Dorian, you said her connection to the Fade is not like that of a mage, correct?” The Tevinter mage confirmed, and Leliana continued, “I’d like someone outside of the pack to confirm that for me, along with confirmation that she is not possessed. Vivienne?”

Well, that explained why she was there, though I wondered just how and when Dorian had seemingly confirmed I was no mage, either. Was it right after I’d fallen out of the rift? Or perhaps after I’d laid down for a nap? Either way, it must have been painless, considering I didn’t remember, but I couldn’t help how intimidated I felt as Madame de Fer stepped forward. “Don’t worry, dear,” she crooned, “this will only take a moment.” Despite her words, I still jumped as she held out her hand and a sudden glow connected it with me. More specifically, my head. True to her word, though, there was no actual discomfort, just an overall tingly feeling as her magic did whatever it was supposed to do. My personal opinion of her aside, she was a talented mage, more than competent at her craft, and so I was in good hands. I truly didn’t have to do anything other than sit there, and after several long minutes, she finally withdrew. “Her connection is, as Dorian said, strange, but it does not appear to be the manifestation of a mage, in my opinion. Nor does she seem to have a rider.”

This seemed to satisfy them, and Leliana inclined her head. “Thank you, Madame de Fer.” Turning back to me, her stare was no-nonsense as she stated, “We will follow The Iron Bull’s recommendations for now, but be aware … we will be watching you. And the information you give us will be thoroughly vetted before we act on it.”

My chest felt tight as I processed what she was saying, though ultimately it all seemed good. I hoped that I could prove myself trustworthy, and soon, because if not then Corypheus would lay waste to Haven just like he did in game. But for now it seemed they were all willing to at least give me a chance, and I was more than happy just to have a safe place to stay, leash notwithstanding. Shit, if they’d wanted, I was pretty sure I would have consented to wearing a literal one, and a small part of me suspected The Iron Bull might have liked that. Either way, though, I had now established my presence here in Thedas and secured a place in the Inquisition. There would be challenges to come, most definitely, but for now I could at least relax and know I wasn’t going to be thrown out on my ass. I thanked them all profusely before The Iron Bull lead me back out, and as we walked down the long hallway of the Chantry, he playfully threw my way, “See? Told you it wasn’t going to be so bad.”

I chuckled under my breath as I replied, “Yeah, well, I don’t put anything past Leliana. She’s sneaky.”

That prompted a laugh from The Bull as he said, “Seems you have the measure of her. At least you know how not to get on her bad side.”

To anyone else, it might have seemed like an innocuous statement, but I heard the warning in there. _Don’t act out. Don’t make waves. Just settle down and let them acclimate to you_. And that was fine with me. Hell, I’d let Leliana’s agents follow me to the latrine if it put her at ease. There were a few key people who could make my life here in Thedas miserable, and so I didn’t want to get on any of their bad sides.

_My life here in Thedas_.

That thought almost stopped me in my tracks. My life? Was this really my life now? Was I stuck here permanently or would I somehow be snatched back to my own world at any minute? While Leliana and Cassandra and the others seemed satisfied for now, there was still lots of questions surrounding me and my appearance, and it didn’t seem like I would be getting answers anytime soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had really meant to publish this chapter sooner, but the past weeks have been a whirlwind of stress and fuckery and there just aren't enough hours in a day, I swear.

Blackwall was waiting outside the Chantry as The Bull and I exited, and it seemed he was going to be my escort for the day as he stood ready to take me off the mercenary’s hands. While he wasn’t in the meeting itself, it seemed one of the things The Bull had told him was to wait for us, because as soon as we came out, he asked, “So, how did it go?”

“It went well,” The Bull replied simply. “Leliana has cleared her to be released to the pack, provided a warrior is present with her.”

“I seem to fit that bill,” he commented. “If you’re ready to return to your Chargers, I can look after her.”

The Bull nodded and flashed me a smile as he stalked off down the path that ran through Haven, light on his feet despite his size. Turning back to the faux Warden, I tried to seem more nonchalant and not like I’d been through a stressful meeting as I said, “So, you’re my babysitter?”

I didn’t even know if he would understand that reference, if they had that word in this world for that sort of thing, but he seemed to get it as he chuckled. “It seems that way. Though I’m afraid you’re probably not going to find much of an exciting time with me.”

Shrugging as I fell in step with him, I quipped, “After this whole day, I’m pretty sure I’m set on no excitement for now. Or ever, really.” _Not very realistic, but hey, a girl can dream, right?_

Just so I wouldn’t be totally bored out of my mind, he showed me around Haven, even though I pretty much knew the area already. It was bigger than in game, however, as it had to be in order to compensate for the real world mechanics of a formation of a complex organisation. Game mechanics could only do so much, after all, and while it got the major areas correct, there was so much more to see. Past Adan’s apothecary hut there was a collection of houses where all kinds of people lived, and outside Haven there was a veritable tent city where the army was housed, opposite the other tent city where the mages from the rebellion were set up. People who were higher up in the Inquisition, like Leliana and Josephine along with visiting dignitaries and a few high ranking Chantry officials who supported the Inquisition like Mother Giselle, were housed in the Chantry itself. The tavern was also much larger and was comprised of the bar and also an inn, where quite a few rooms were pretty much rented out 24/7 now, considering what was going on. And of course there were several tents set up at different areas inside Haven proper, in areas that would normally just be wide open space, filling the town even further. Quite honestly, the place looked full to bursting, and I was surprised to see just how many people they could fit and have function in the space that they had. It seemed that even before Corypheus attacked, the Inquisition was in dire need of an upgrade, and had the Breach not been a huge, primary concern, they likely would have been looking for a place already.

Evening was creeping up, the sun slowly setting and setting the sky alight in vibrant reds, swirling around in the clouds and mixing in with the unsettling green of the Breach. I tried to ignore that part of the sky, but the rest was still nice to look at as Arthur Blackwall and I stood outside of Haven, near his tent outside the smithy. Despite the looming threat that the hole in the sky posed, it was actually … nice. Peaceful, in a way. Like once all of this bullshit was all said and done, Thedas was actually a great place to just settle down in and live. I liked camping, after all, loved the forests and the peaceful quiet that accompanied rural living. If I’d had my druthers, I would have traded my apartment in the city – small city that it was – for a cabin in the woods away from all civilisation. Even grow my own food, the whole nine yards. It had never really been in the cards for me before, but maybe …

I shook my head. _You don’t know this is permanent. After all, you have no idea how you even got here, so whether you’ll stay or not isn’t a sure thing. Maybe you’ll be here just long enough to give the Inquisition information and then once you’ve given them everything they’ll need to know, you’ll just poof on back to your own world and your own life._ Of course, there was nothing to say this wasn’t permanent, either. The unknown parts of the situation was what unnerved me the most, if I was being honest. If I knew this was permanent, I could feel more like I could settle in and get used to this. If I knew it wasn’t, then I could prepare for the jolt back to my own reality, minimise my relationships and interactions so it wouldn’t hurt as bad. As it was, there was no guarantee either way, no way to tell what might happen in the future – if I even survived this whole affair – and I felt a bit adrift, perplexed at what to do, how to act, hell, even what I wanted. Because as strange and random and obscure as this whole venture was, deep down, a part of me was thrilled, and it was that part that tried to convince me to just enjoy the moment and what I got and worry about everything else later.

Easier said than done.

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and Arthur said, “C’mon, common meal should be served soon, we’ll want to get some.”

I dutifully followed beside him and walked up to the Chantry, entering the main hall and then making our way into a large room that likely served multiple purposes but for now it housed the space for a dining room for most everybody. Not everyone partook in the common meal, as Arthur explained to me on the way, but it was free and it was usually good, so unless you were really hankering for something specific from the tavern or something you might want to make yourself, there was little reason to not avail oneself of the provided meal. While simple, it was usually hearty and filling, considering how many people they had to feed, many of them soldiers of some sort. And sure enough, tonight it was some stewed meat and vegetables in a thick both and a bowl of rice to pour it on top of. Filling and warm, it hit the spot on a chilly … winter day? Was that what this was? While I knew the year these events were supposed to be taking place in, the exact time of year was never specified. There were theories, but nothing concrete, and not knowing what the normal climates of the areas were like, it was hard to pinpoint a starting point in time for the beginning of the game itself. If one recruited the mages and travelled forward in time due to Gereon’s spell, then Fiona would tell Dorian and the player that they were in Harvestmere in 9:42, though it was unknown if the Herald and the mage were pushed forward in time exactly one year or if it was a little more or less. I supposed now I could finally ask and know for sure, though I couldn’t quite remember all of the different months, and the few I could remember was the Fereldan equivalents, not the official ones known in Ancient Tevinter. Besides Harvestmere – which had to be in the autumn, considering the name – I remembered Wintermarch, which I was pretty sure their equivalent of January, and also that the eighth month was also August for them, same for me. That would at least make one month easy to remember. Outside of those, I was at a loss. I felt a bit like a child, not even knowing something so simple as that, and I suddenly felt embarrassed about asking.

Both Arthur and I left the dining hall full and satisfied. I wasn’t sure exactly where he was taking me, but I tagged along without question, and found myself soon sitting in front of the fire that one typically found Varric in front of while in Haven. Except it wasn’t just Varric sitting there, all along the benches sat some of the members of the Inquisition, people like Dorian and Cullen and Cassandra. Soon after we joined, The Iron Bull also made an appearance, along with Krem and Skinner and Dalish. It was quite the assortment, most of them part of the pack that had been described, but not all of them. And, last to join the little party – practically skipping down the little pathway – was none other than Sera, the feisty rogue whom I always adored in game, even if I rarely romanced her. I had been wondering where she was when I hadn’t seen her in the tavern, but it appeared she’d been up to something somewhere, probably making trouble in some way, as she was want to do. Seeing me there, she didn’t say anything, but she did throw a smirk and a wink my way.

It was quickly apparent that this group, under normal circumstances, would gather in the evening to unwind together, and this time it seemed they wanted Varric to continue with a story he'd hinted at previously but hadn't yet told. Just as he was with the written word, he was proficient and poetic in the spoken, weaving a tale of intrigue that had everyone on the edge of their seat … despite the fact it was no more than a comedy of errors of himself and Isabella attempting to steal some cheese and sweets from Hawke. Not because their friend wouldn’t share, more for the sport of it than anything else. When it got down to brass tacks, it was a very simple, straight forward story. But the way Varric set it up and narrated it, it was just as suspenseful – and hilarious – as a story with ten times more intricacy. Never let it be said that Varric Tethras lacked skill as a storyteller, no matter what the medium was.

And, despite the fuckery of the day and how frayed my nerves had been for much of it – and hell, the nap I had taken earlier – I began to get tired as I sat there on the bench. While I was entranced by the storytelling, I began to wish for a warm bed to lie in so I could doze as I listened. Now that would have been a thing to have, little podcasts that were more or less just Brian Bloom telling random Varric-style stories. I had to suppress the chuckle at such a thought, especially considering where I was, as he neared the climax of the story where he and Isabella finally nabbed what they were looking for and attempted to get away … only to have everything come crashing down around them as Hawke almost caught them trying to escape several times before they burst into Darktown and skedaddled into Anders’ clinic for a breather. While they did get away, Hawke had still known it was them, as he’d casually brought it up several months down the road, at a time when they’d almost forgotten about the whole venture themselves. This was the kind of thing I really liked, if I was being honest. I knew the big stories, the important ones, the major ones, and some of the minor ones. But these, the little sordid, every day type of misadventures? These were some of the best, the ones that no one else really knew about, that went on behind the scene without acknowledgement or mention in game.

I couldn’t help the yawn that forced its way out after the story’s conclusion, and while I hid it with my hand, the action was unmistakable. Arthur settled a hand on my shoulder. “Ready to turn in?”

Nodding automatically, I suddenly realised that probably meant he had to do the same, or at least keep watch over me until he followed suit. Shooting him an apologetic look, I offered, “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “I usually have early days, today was no exception. It’s actually nice to have an excuse to bed early for a change,” he said pointedly as he looked around the circle, especially at The Bull, who just continued drinking a flagon of ale as if he hadn’t heard what was said. Parting pleasantries were exchanged and before I knew it, we were both walking down the steps to the gates that lead out of Haven, our destination being the tent near the blacksmith’s cabin, the one I had woken up in after falling out of the rift. “I do have a little something to confess,” he began.

“Oh?” I asked, thinking that surely he wasn’t going to go ahead and tell me his real name already. Although, if he had any idea the level of knowledge I had, he might have buckled and told me. But I wasn’t sure what might have been communicated to him just yet.

“Unfortunately, we’ve run out of single beds at the moment. Josephine had a double available, that was the only other one that would fit in my tent, so we’ll have to share.”

I stopped in my tracks a moment, my cheeks burning at the thought of doing something so intimate as sharing a bed with Blackwall. I had figured on perhaps a bedroll on the ground, but a bed? To share? It seemed like such a strange and sudden step to take in this world.

Then again, this whole thing was strange and sudden, so, par for the course.

Arthur realised after a few steps that I’d stopped, and he turned to look at me. “Will you be uncomfortable? If so, I can see about some other lodging ...”

It was nice that he was thoughtful to offer, but it was late, and Josephine was trying to relax finally, and I really just wanted to lie down. And in the grand scheme of things, I basically already had him and however many other people in my head as it was, what was sleeping in the same bed compared to that, really? Was this truly any more strange than falling out of a rift outside Haven? Shaking my head, I rejoined him and followed up back to his tent, hoping that I really could fall asleep as quickly as I felt I could, because if not I was about to face hours lying awake, heart pounding, face flushed, as he slept next to me. Of all the times I’d played through Inquisition, I usually split my romances between him and Cullen, with the occasional Iron Bull or Dorian thrown in. Solas, I had romanced precisely once, just because I wanted to see what it was like, and while it was indeed everything it had been promised, it had broken me far too much to do it again. If I’d thought Anders’ romance hurt, I just hadn’t gotten to the pinnacle yet. Of course, who knew what they might pull off in the fourth instalment, but of course I wouldn’t get to see or play that now that I was actually in Thedas. A small pang of sadness clenched my chest as we stepped into the tent as I realised I would miss that chance, and it unexpectedly hurt.

That pang suddenly tightened and I froze in the doorway. It wasn’t about the bed sharing situation, in fact that was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, it was like my anxiety had an itch to scratch and it wasn’t even sure where it was or what it meant. Arthur’s hand on my shoulder was a comforting anchor as I turned to him and immediately asked, “What is this? What’s going on?” as if he could tell me.

And he could. “It’s just nesting, it happens to some of the pack at night. It’s why we all usually sleep together in some way.” With the way I raised an eyebrow, he groaned and explained, “Not like that … although some do …” Shaking his head, he continued, “What I mean is in a shared bed or near each other in a bedroll. That was … another reason Josephine procured a double, in the off chance you’d experience nighttime nesting. Better to be prepared if it hits.”

“So, what, this is gonna happen every night from now on? I can’t sleep without someone without having a-an anxiety attack or something?”

“It will get a little better with time. You may even eventually be able to drop off without someone, but you’ll wake up if no one joins you. Or, if you fall asleep with someone, they’ll be able to leave in the middle of the night and you’ll continue to sleep easy. Either way, this is perfectly normal.”

I nodded as I tried to wrap my brain around the evolving weirdness that just seemed to keep getting exponentially … well, weirder. “It’s … it’s not going to bother you, is it?”

His chuckle was low and deep. “No, not at all. I’m not a nester, but I don’t mind helping those that are. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the wearying events of the day, the way my nerves were frayed and raw, the exhaustion that was setting in, or the whole effects of this nesting business – or even some combination of it all – but tears pricked my eyes at his reassurance. The idea that he, a total stranger to myself, would just offer this comfort that easily. No hesitation, no questions asked. It was … humbling. I had fallen into a world that, while familiar, was still utterly foreign to myself. I had nothing to my name and nothing of note in my possessions aside from a set of clothes and a bag of items that meant exactly jack shit in this world. I had nothing. And yet I’d been clothed and cared for. Yeah, I was also questioned and put under scrutiny, but not for no reason. And when all of that was over, the members of this pack still looked after me, providing me with a bed to sleep on instead of a bedroll on an undoubtedly bumpy ground and the room for a second person should I need them. They didn’t even know if I would have needed it, they just went ahead and prepared. It was all a very strange and foreign concept to me, and I had no idea how I might begin to repay them, but I nodded and turned to remove my cloak and overshirt and boots so I might be more comfortable as I slept.

Climbing into bed, I settled into the blankets easily, Arthur just a step behind me. He’d also shed his outermost layers and boots, and wore a similar undershirt to mine. The bed was large enough so that we didn’t touch if we kept to one side, but we were still close enough that I could practically feel him in my space and … it was actually comforting. The anxiety that had knotted in my chest started to ease and drain out of me, and as he faced me, lying on his side, he asked, “Feel better?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He chuckled again. “No thanks needed. Now get some sleep. Harritt likes to be up early, and I doubt you’ll be able to sleep through him wielding those hammers.”

Whether it took him some time to fall asleep or if he drifted off immediately, I didn’t know. About as soon as I rested my head on the pillow and pulled the blankets up around me, I dropped off, dead to world around me.


End file.
